Blood red space spans the sky, dotted with pulsing dark spheres. The aether winds rustle Nicora's flight vanes, and her gas bladders are full and prepared for launch. The hooks of her foot secure her firmly to the flesh of the world, the dark skin forming a hill. The others of her clutch are there, forming a garden. Tentacles wave upward, filtering the aether.. but it's the dark spots that beckon. The time of Migration is upon them.
Amelia says, "Cue! You can probably tell that you're dreaming."
"Wait? What? How do I know this? Where am I? What am I?" Nicora thinks, feeling disoriented, confused, and plain bizarre. She tries to get a look at herself; if she even has eyes.
She has eyes. Too many of them! And they all move independently on stalks. Piecing together the various views, she realizes she's one of the Elder Things - one of the creatures that put her into current state of perpetual pregnancy. Her 'skin' is dark, but illuminated by veins of glowing fluid. Light here comes from the ground, from fluid oozing and pooling in giant pores in the leathery surface.
"Ugh, I hate these things," Nicora thinks dismally, "They make me swell and birth every day to two, and it hurts. A lot. And they stink." Disgusted with herself in this form, it tries to pull its feet 'free' from the hard ground.
The suckers and hooks release from each of her five toes. The others near her are also uprooting themselves, swaying and twisting their bodies and releasing a concert of putrid odors. Ready! Go! Must Go! Spread! the stinks seem to say.
Nicora just wants to say "Oh, just go!" The body makes some sort of sound in response. It isn't like flying like a bat at all; the blobby thing sort of bounces in place to see if it get airborne.
The bladders release, the pressurized gas and fluids acting to launch Nicora into the air. A succession of rude noises indicates the others are launching with her as well. Now her vanes spread, becoming something like wings - although the pentalateral symmetry of the body makes it tricky to manage them. The others move ahead, using a sort of spinning twist and angling of the wings to screw their way through.. whatever medium this is - not fluid, not air or vacuum. Just something that can be moved through.
"I feel ... like an idiot," Nicora has to admit to itself as it fumbles and flails in the air. So, it watches the others for a bit, then tries to mimic their movements and twitsting.
"/And why do I have to have such weird dreams!" it thinks in silent frustration.
At least with altitude come perspective. The world beneath recedes, becoming a lumpy blob of.. flesh. There are orifices, and eyes and for some reason giant roving tongues. Glowing filaments stretch away from fleshteroid towards the others in distance. Danger, one of the others farts. There's something else out in the aether, its movement causing ripples.
"Danger? What?" Nicora thinks as it tries to get a grip on its many eyes and look around for what is causing this danger. "I just ... bet it is coming after me..."
Something glitters in the nearby space: it looks like a very fine net. A net made of mucous or something similar. A nearly translucent blob of the stuff seems to be the source, like the center of a giant spider web.
"As much as I seem to be attracted to danger..." Nicora thinks ... she tries to make her blobby form spin away from the net thing.
The others are in a panic, and two of them bump into Nicora, spinning her around. The group is scattering! One sticky tendril catches on Nicora's foot. It doesn't sting or burn or do anything other than be sticky.
Nicora ... thinks, well, maybe it would be a way to wake up! And maybe not be traumatizing at that. So, she tries to spin right into the net! "Nothing ventured, nothing escaped!" she tries to tell herself, justifying a possibly monumentally bad decision.
The strands wrap and wrap and stick and stick, until Nicora is encased in the slimy substance. And then, when she's drawn to the central glob, she can see others captured as well. Once she's fully drawn in, there's a feeling of pressure and speed that seems to go on forever. It ends with bright light, and a sense of up and down, and... a voice. It's louder than anything, and it says..
"Gesundheit.."
The sneeze jerks Nicora forward on her bed, making a mess on whatever was facing her. The glowing green lights of the High Priestess of Gorphat's private chambers great her, although she can't really focus on them due to the clouding of her eyes.
"What?" Nicora tries to say. Did she awake? Is she still in this mess? She feels dizzy, disoriented, and ... blind again. "Still blind," she mutters to herself, feeling dismal. She tries to sense if someone else is actually here or if she is alone.
There's.. possibly someone there in the room with her. She can 'see' the two 'children' clearly, and the familiar silver of the life clinging to the walls.. but her aura sense keeps flickering, and there's an empty space in her senses. Something must be in it though.
"Who is there?" Nicora burbles as she fumbles for her walking staff so that she can prod at the empty space. She feels completely helpless like this; if that were an assassin she would be dead quickly.
The space moves out of the way. "This is unexpected," notes the somewhat hollow sounding voice of Yodhsunala Megrasastis. "Some test of Gorphat's you are taking, perhaps?"
"Yes. Yodhsunala," Nicora burbles as she lowers the stick and tilts her head towards the empty spot. "What brings you here uninvited?"
"You offered us one of these creatures to study," the Yodhsunala notes.. and then Nicora can see her - or rather, sense her spirit. She must have been hiding it somehow before. "I came to see if you had created another that had survived. I see you have two. Should I ask why one of them has Eeee fur?"
"They take on traits of anything that mates with me," Nicora burbles and waves one slimy hand. "Will you kill the one you take? Or do you wish to keep them alive?"
"We wish to study it," the Yodhsunala says. "It would be counterproductive if it was dead. We want to know how it works, and what it does, and if there are any uses it could be put to."
"Is there anything you can tell us about its needs and behavior so far?" Megrasastis then asks, a bit more cordially.
"Then why not take both? They prefer each other's company and manage to communicate to each other," Nicora burbles as she slides her legs off her bed so that she's sitting on it. "It likes to feed off dirt refuse, and slime. Notably, my slime. If you wish, I an sure I can bestow a similar slime gift on an acolyte."
"As for its behavior. They are pleasant enough. Friendly. Like to be petted and touched," Nicora adds.
"Hmm, would it soak up any other sorts of biological fluids?" the Yodh asks, approaching closer and leaning down to look at the two potted monsters. "Do they have teeth? Have you tried giving them blood?"
"I imagine any biological fluid may suffice. I have not tried blood," Nicora admits.
"And no one accepts my offers to make them ooze slime. It is very disappointing," the Yodhgorphat notes.
"We have plenty of oozing sores, open wounds and pus-filled blisters," Megrasastis points out. "What we lack are leeches that will deal with all of them."
"I cannot promise that these things can help, but you are welcome to try them," Nicora burbles, waving towards the pots.
"We will be careful to ensure that the creatures cannot impregnate the patients while cleaning them," the Yodhsunala says. Then, with a hint of humor, she adds, "The ones that are best behaved may be granted blindfolds for the process."
Nicora chokes a laugh at that. "I don't think they can impregnate anyone," she notes, smirking. "Is there any other news or rumors I should be aware of? Are any odd wounds showing up at the clinics? Or any unexpected increase?"
"Or any need of A Yodhgorphat?" she adds.
"It has been decided to move those with afflictions to the hospice being assembled on your doorstep," Megrasastis says. "A few Yodhrinala acolytes will provide nursing care, until you expand the Yodhgorphat."
"That is proving difficult. None wish to join, they only wish my help," Nicora says in a mildly irritated tone. "And even though permission was not asked to build a hospice there, I grant it anyway."
"You must lead by example, and then you will gain acolytes," Megrasastis claims. "Ease the afflicted and gain their loyalty. I'm sure some of those suffering from diseases will qualify for becoming Yodhgorphat."
"A nice, if unlike, thought," Nicora notes, smirking.
"You have not seen them," Megrasastis points out. "Disfigured, warped.. limbs and bodies ravaged by disease. What use is it to them to be cured, only to be shunned or unable to care for themselves. Isn't Gorphat all about turning weakness into strength?"
"I can't see much of anything," Nicora burbles, "But your point is well made. Some may indeed be candidates and willing."
"Good, because we have enough candidates for death as it is," the Yodhsunala notes. "Although fewer than we once had. The ranks of the Yodhrinala continue to swell. Nobody wants to be a Maiden of Death, however."
"Yet. That too can change. It serves its purpose," Nicora notes as she shifts a bit, causing her body to make a rather rude noise.
"Are you even capable of performing your duties?" Megrasastis asks, as she scoops up the two pots and tries to ignore the probing tentacles.
"Yes, I am quite capable. That is the point of my condition. To continue to serve in spite of being disabled," Nicora notes. "And don't shy away from the tentacles, they can be quite pleasant."
"I am not a Yodhinala," Megrasastis huffs. "When will you be ready to receive patients?"
"Soon. A day, two at worst," Nicora says as she rises, using her cane to steady her footing. "And neither am I a Yodhinala, but that does not mean I do not enjoy pleasures."
"You are more willing to deal with the consequences then," Megrasastis claims, hefting the two potted creatures. They both burp and out-gas happily.
"Perhaps you should challenge yourself to as well," Nicora says. "I would say it has been a pleasure to see you again, but, I cannot see. Take care of the things. They may be monsters, but they are harmless and gentle things."
"Do they have names?" the Yodhsunala asks before leaving.
"The one without hair has been named Blarf. The other with hair is Spike," Nicora offers.
"Thank you, that will be helpful, should patients develop a preference between them," Megrasastis says, and finally leaves.
"Yodhsunala," Nicora mutters to herself. Now that she is awake, she tends to herself. This means changing out the slime-heavy lower bandages with fresher ones, and trying to dry off her skin as much as she can. While blind. It's awkward at the best of times. And smelly.
"Mistress, do you need help?" the voice of Fon asks, a few moments after Nicora is aware of his approach. He still keeps outside the chamber though. Without the 'babies' to help her, cleaning up is quite a chore.
"I am dealing with my excretions. Help if you wish, but you are not required given where I heavily ooze from," Nicora notes. She also uses her sounding staff to move about her room and find things like the chest containing the fresher bandages.
The bandages really are fresh and clean - someone is handling laundry apparently. Fon does enter though, carrying something. It sloshes so likely is a bucket of water. It's strange who he stands out clearly, being familiar to Nicora, while his clothes or items carried are a bit less distinct. "I can wash your back if you like," he offers.
"As you wish. I will not consider it flirting," Nicora notes, then smirks towards the man as she removes her currently soaked bandages.
The water is warm at least, which is important when washing wings. "I hope we are proving useful, Yodhgorphat Scourge," Fon says. "There has been much activity outside, and more people have been visiting. Donations are up."
"You have been very useful," Nicora has to agree as she holds still for the man. "The activity is apparently a hospice being built for me to help those seriously ill. What has been donated so far?"
"Those boys returned with more bugs, and Sil has started a farm for them," Fon relates. "An.. unknown person.. donated 1000 Shekels and a large wagon towards the creation of the soup kitchen."
"An unknown person? Can you describe this person?" Nicora asks as she abruptly turns so that Fen is now washing her front.
Fon starts at Nicora's face, of course. "A large Naga, who claimed to be doing it as an errand for some group who wished to remain anonymous. It may be a gang, or some higher-level group. The man had the look of a Graytowner, but the demeanor of one familiar with the Streets Below."
"Mm, I ma not sure who that could be," Nicora has to admit, then shrug. "Something to look into sometime."
This suggestion causes Fon to pause. "Look into?" he asks.
"Find out who is donating," Nicora clarifies. "And why. I don't want poison goods sabotaging my work."
This seems to really shock Fon. "But.. they are donations. If you try to expose those giving them, then.. others may not for fear of being seen to support.. ah.. garbage people."
"I don't wish to expose them. Just know who it is," Nicora notes, then shrugs, "But the items donated I suppose are not a risk. I can let it remain anonymous."
"We can't actually spend the money down here though," Fon says apologetically, as he washes Nicora's breasts next. Whatever is in the water is good at cleaning up the gooier stuff, but doesn't seem to affect the thin 'waxy' coating of the bared skin.
Nicora feels her skin, then has to ask, "What are you leaving behind on me?"
"Nothing, mistress," Fon says, sounding alarmed. "Just.. your normal.. uh.. skin?"
"It feels odd, is all. But I have to trust you in this," Nicora says as she finishes feeling up her breast. She has to pause and spit out some mucus too.
"Is there.. something we can get you for the throat congestion?" Fon asks, as he polishes Nicora's extra sets of teats. "Some tea?"
"Nothing will cure it, but tea would not be refused," Nicora agrees. "The conjestion is but one of many of Gorphat's tests."
"Sil has made some herbal tea from things she has found growing around the Temple," Fon notes, a hint of pride in his voice. At least until he gets to the really messy parts of Nicora. "Do you wish me to continue washing you, mistress?" he asks, just to be certain (and with some small amount of dread).
"Outside and inside, servant Fen," Nicora answers simply. "Do I look that horrible there to you? Be honest."
"It is just that it is a rather intimate area, mistress," Fon says, and does something with the bucket. There's a fragrant scent, like crushed flower petals.. and a sucking sound.
"You didn't answer my question. How bad does that area look on me?" Nicora asks. She apparently really likes asking uncomfortable questions.
The wrap is employed to wipe the area clear. "You are very unique, Mistress," Fon claims. "The marks of divinity are very clear. I simply cannot compare you to a mere mortal."
"Such polite and non-answer, answers," Nicora says with a smirk. "I am also still a woman and have my vanity. Mostly."
"You have a depiction of Horrib larva eating their way out of your belly, mistress," Fon notes. "And while the smooth, pale look of your nethers is.. intriguing.. they do glow when you are aroused.. uh.. which you seem to be almost always."
"Better answer," Nicora says and even pets Fon's head. "Now, continue with your task."
After the external wiping, Fon takes a deep breath.. and then pushes something into Nicora. Whatever was having water sucked up into it before is now being use to swoosh that water up into Nicora's birth canal.
Nicora goes up on her toes and hisses. "Not unpleasant," she has to admit, "And given my regular stretching, it fit easily enough." And if she's lucky ... maybe it'll wash out any remaining eggs.
Alas, it doesn't get that far. It would take a considerable amount of pressure to breach the cervix, especially since that's the thickest concentration of goo. Still.. a lot comes out. Fon tries not to be overcome by the odors, and wraps a cloth around his hand.. which then goes in for the followup, as he tries to wipe down the walls while things are room enough to let him try. "Let me know if this becomes too uncomfortable, mistress," the man says nervously.
"Sadly, I only feel you a little when you do that," Nicora admits, "The repeated births have left the muscles in poor tone and loose. "I can dress myself when you finish. I know you will need time to recover."
Fon finishes wiping down Nicora, and then promises, "I will return with the tea." He probably wants to boil his hand too, but it's hard to tell.
"You are truly devout," Nicora admits as the man flees the room. She chuckles to herself as she swathes on new bandages. "I am the most hideous Eeee that lives," she thinks as she dresses.
"You do not need to dress yet," the voice of Hosheb whispers, as the demon's presence begins to fill Nicora's awareness.
"Hosheb?" Nicora asks as she 'looks' around for the demon. "I did not summon you ... husband."
"Your womb did," the Horrib-demon says, coalescing out of the shadows. "You are beautiful. Like a newborn larva. Pale, and squishy and slick."
Nicora actually goes to Hosheb and touches his carapice, running her hands over it. "I carried your larvae for two weeks," she tells him, "And in some ways those were the happiest two weeks of my life. Each time they moved within me I thought if you and of the day you had me implanted."
The demon clicks and clatters its mouthparts at the memory, and lifts Nicora up off her feet. "Pleasant memories," he says, and then sprays a gout of sticky goo from his mouth over Nicora's shoulder.. to coat the wall behind her.
"What are you doing?" Nicora asks of him. Logically, she ought to be terrified of this demon ... but emotionally ... she's actually attracted to him. Turned on, even. Her hands continue to explore his shell since she cannot see it.
"Reliving things," Hosheb claims, and presses Nicora up against the wall.. sticking her there. His tail whips around, the venomous barb pricking her shoulders, hips, arms and legs until they go numb and paralyzed.
Nicora yelps out in shock as she feels her limbs fall dead, putting her at the mercy of this monster. At least this time there is no horrib queen to lay in her, unlike the last time when she was hung upside down and left of gestate them. Still, there is a level of terror in this; she's stuck to the wall, she can feel the stiff cocoon-like goo binding her back and wings to the wall.
Hosheb penetrates her then, and not just once. Chiton-scaled appendages enter both through the usual way, and also by stabbing directly into Nicora's bulging belly with the feeding tube. And that area isn't numbed at all. It doesn't help that it just adds to the pressure problem.. at least until the demon achieves full penetration below and releases some of that pressure. With mostly-numb thighs, Nicora doesn't really feel the ooze though.
Nicora's jaw clenches. Wow, this hurts, a lot. All she can do is let out a pained burble between those clenched teeth. "Husband..." she hisses out as her entire gut burns. The relief of pressure is, well, a relief. But then it also tells her she's penetrated all the way into her womb. "You're very deep," she whimpers.
"Nobody has told me that before," Hosheb says, as he thrusts hard and painfully. "Most think me shallow."
This is all too familiar; this is how he prepared the doe by opening her cervix for the queen. It feels like she is being host-prepared by Hosheb. That comes with the cold trickle of fear; she cannot stop this demon, even if she wanted to. "Hurts," she whimpers, clouded eyes closed. Her deafened ears strain, trying to hear any buzz; the sound of a queen.
There's only the sound of Hosheb.. and the stretching of skin. Severe stretching! The spirit-nutrient Hosheb pumped in is having a an effect, and the 'larva' growing inside is getting much bigger than the others. Nicora can 'see' it now, squirming and pressing. The surface of her belly is pushed out by the creature's limbs (the irony being that it must make the tattoo of the horrib larva look like they are alive and squirming).
And Nicora's central mass squirms with it, though her limbs are limb and dead weight. "Oh Mother, this hurts," she hisses out, her jaws clenched incredibly tight. Could she fully see this, it would look like a nightmare, but she cannot. That makes it worse. She feels the immense pressure in her gut, and her skin pulled to tight it feels like it could tear. She isn't even sure how she could possibly birth this thing! The Eeee actually wonders ... is she going to die?
Hosheb finally adds his essence to the mix.. but doesn't withdraw. Which could be problematical for the birthing process. This means Nicora can feel the larva changing inside. Parts are becoming hard, or sharp..
"Oh Gods, oh Gods," Nicora cries out, thick tears running down her face. So much pain. So much squirming. And there is nothing she can do to escape it. All she can do is endure. But, can she survive?
That is certainly the question, and Hosheb withdraws the feeding tube.. and then plunges a blade-like talon into the wound. With a dreadful sawing motion, he begins to cut open Nicora's belly! And the child is trying to get out even before the demon is finished, with several stinger-tipped, armored tentacles wiggling through the slit.
Maybe it's a good thing since Nicora can't hear well, because her cry must be ungodly. The cutting hurts worse than anything she has ever felt. "I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die," the yodh thinks in absolute horror. The only saving grace is she really can't see this at all. She's still impaled on him, too.
Looking down with other senses probably wouldn't help either. Hosheb is using his secondary limbs to extract the offspring. It looks more insect than fungus, certainly. The vane-wing structures are actual diaphanous insect wings, and the tentacles look like horrib tails. The foot, when it finally emerges trailing gore, looks like it is made of centipedes. It buzzes and hisses and chitters, and Hosheb cradles it tenderly in his secondary arms. "Beautiful," he chitters. Then the horrible gash is covered by a spray of more glue from the demon's mouth, and he full withdraws from the hanging Eeee.
Nicora's body jerks and then goes completely limp when her body is left. She has no strength, all she has is pain. A weak head lifts only slightly as she tries to look at Hosheb and the child. "You killed me," she says in a whispery voice.
"Never," Hosheb says.. and a sting to her abdomen washes away the pain. "This child is half spirit, so I merely created a spirit path for it. You will survive."
"You did not cut me? But I felt it. I could see it," Nicora says weakly. She's thankful the pain is gone, even if it means it masks her dying.
"What eyes did you see it with?" Hosheb asks. "Your clouded ones, or the eyes of the Wraith?"
"Wraith, you know my normal eyes do not work," Nicora says. The Eeee has to take several long, slow, breaths afterward.
"I would not harm you," Hosheb says. "Only challenge you." The monstrous child squirms in his grasp, until the feeding tube is extended for it to suck from.
"Then I am unharmed? You merely used me to host your child?" Nicora has to ask from where she remains stuck on the wall. If her memory serves, that poison lasts for a while.
"Unharmed.. but not unmarked," Hosheb replies, a bit ominously. Already his spirit light is beginning to dim. "I will take our child where he will be needed. Thank you for giving him to me."
"Wait, aren't you going to unstick me?" Nicora cries out.
"It will loosen.." Hosheb says, the clacking of his voice echoing after he's already left. Of course, that is when Fon returns, carrying a tray with a clay kettle and cup on it. "I have brought the tea, Miss.. tress?" the man asks, dumbfounded at the sight before him.
"E-heh, demon visit," Nicora says weakly to Fon and tries to smile at him. The demon claimed I am marked. How? I cannot see. And ... can you help me down?"
After setting the tea tray down and gathering his courage, Fon comes over and tests the glue holding Nicora to the wall with the tip of a knife. "I am worried about you, Mistress," he notes. "I am sure the other High Priestesses do not have to endure these things. And.. you were just bathed.."
"Yes, but I have you, Fon. You can just bathe me again," Nicora says with an impish, albeit tired, smirk. "And of course others do not have to endure it; I am the greatest of them all!" Of course what she really thinks is, "Try the stupidest of them all. You are going to get yourself killed at this rate."
"Of course, mistress," is all Fon can say as he carefully cuts Nicora down from the wall. He's surprised by the paralysis as well, when Nicora's arm comes free and just smacks against him limply.
It takes some time, but Nicora if finally returned to her bed, while Fon tries to 'wake up' her limbs by massaging them. The patch of glue is still on her belly though.
"Get that glob off my stomach, please?" Nicora requests. She knows Fon is massaging those limbs, but she can't feel it. That's ... well, it is disturbing. "It was left by Hosheb, who paralized me."
Pulling off the plaster leaves the skin underneath a bit pink, no matter how carefully Fon does it.. but at least it's still numb right now. The garish tattoo is there, barely visible to Nicora's clouded sight.. but there's a silver 'scar' there too, one that follows the contours of the largest tattooed 'hole' precisely.
"Ugh," Nicora grunts. "What do you see? I know what I 'see'."
"Um," Fon says, and really focuses on the area. Finally he has to use his fingertips to feel over it. "There is a slight scar.. I think.. on your skin-painting. It is very hard to see though, but I can just barely feel it."
"So, I guess that is what he means. That demon is off my gift list," Nicora mutters to herself. Louder, she notes, "I feel like a tuber sack. I should sleep this off, then tend to the matters here and outside."
"I'll bring you fresh tea when you wake," Fon promises, and arranges Nicora so that her limbs aren't going to get in the way. Some of them are beginning to tingle, a sign that the paralysis is wearing off.
"Hey Fon, can we swap bodies some day? I'd like to pretend to be normal," Nicora jokes. The flash of horror on his face must be so apparent even a blind Eeee can see it. "Kidding, Fon. But, that expression was worth it; even I could see it," she says, trying to smile. "You put up with a lot. So ... no Yodh says this often but, thank you."